Bloodlines: The Council of Iridia
by CrashLtd
Summary: Following the disastrous events of his fifth year, Harry was sent back to spend his summer at Privet Drive. A nasty accident allows Harry to unknowingly wield the powers that run dormant in the bloodlines of the followers of the Council of Iridia.


**Disclaimer: JKR owns everything in the Potterverse.**

**Chapter 1 – End of an Old Life**

In a tiny bedroom on the second floor of an average middle class home a teenager lay on his bed asleep. His face was contorted into a frown. Sweat drenched his pale forehead, which was marred with an unusual lightning-bolt shaped scar. In one quick motion, the sleeping figure sat up from his sleep, gasping for air, and opened his eyes revealing brilliant emerald orbs. A sudden flash of green light coming from his eyes filled the room and, as quickly as it had come, faded back into them- his eyes now pulsating with power. Closing his eyes, Harry Potter gently settled himself back on his bed fast asleep.

Today was just another day in the boring existence of Mrs. Number Five Privet Drive. Every single day was followed from an exact same routine she had fallen into since moving to Privet Drive four years ago. She would wake up, cook breakfast and share it with her husband. She would then kiss him off to work before she started with her daily list of household chores. After accomplishing everything in her list, she would spend the rest of her day in the company of either the television or silence. By evening, just before her husband comes home, she would cook dinner for two and have it ready by the time her husband got home. After dinner, she would wash the dishes then head up to her room and snuggle with her husband to sleep. She was ready for the next day.

The day after dawned bright and it seemed normal as ever. She went about the rest of the day following the same dull routine up until the middle of washing the evening dishes. A quick flash of green light coming from Number Four caught her eye. Her face immediately contorred into a frown for Number Four's occupants. However hard the Dursley (or was it Durveys?) tried to act normal, they always were an odd bunch.

The elder male, who closely resembled a walrus, was a sycophant and was clearly despised by everyone in the neighborhood. His wife was no better. She had a long sharp face reminiscent of a horse and a very long neck that was useful enough for her love for gossip. Their son easily passed for a pig not only in appearance but also in everything else that mattered. He was a bully terrorizing all the other kids in the neighborhood. Then there was their nephew, who was rumored to be a juvenile delinquent. Mrs. Number Five snorted at this. As far as everyone in the neighborhood was concerned, those rumors were as true as magic being real. The kid was the only decent being, and except for the occasional owl or two that flew in and out of the boy's window, the only normal person in the household.

Passing the light as just a trick by her eye or another, Mrs. Number Five quickly finished the rest of her chores. Little did she know that the end of the old life of Privet Drive's juvenile delinquent was at hand.

The first golden rays of sunlight peeked into the windows of Privet Drive as the sun started its daily route, slowly creeping up the morning sky. A tawny owl streaked above Privet Drive's rooftops trying to out-fly another which was racing for Number Four Privet Drive like the messenger birds of old. Spotting their destination, the two owls started diving with trajectories aimed for the house's windowsill.

It was a few hours later when Harry Potter woke up to the screeching of owls outside his window. The three owls, he noticed, were squabbling for the right to perch on the windowsill. Their feathers were all ruffled as they tried to wrestle each other off of their common perch. It was an amusing if not for the day being Sunday. The birds were causing a racket and God knows what would happen if his relatives heard the commotion. A quick guess would be very big trouble. He quickly retrieved the two letters and shooed them away before they caused more trouble.

One of the letters, he noticed, had a very formal look to it akin to the several letters he received from the ministry for underaged sorcery. Wondering what half-baked accusations the Ministry was charging him this time, he ripped open the envelope and unfolded the piece of parchment that was inside.

**ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS**

**Pass Grades**  
Outstanding (O)  
Exceeds Expectation (E)  
Acceptable (A)

**Fail Grades**  
Poor (P)  
Dreadful (D)  
Troll (T)

**Harry James Potter has achieved:**

Astronomy - A  
Care of Magical Creatures - E  
Charms - O  
Defense Against the Dark Arts - O  
Divination - P  
Herbology - E  
History of Magic - D  
Potions - E  
Transfiguration - E

**Note:** All incoming NEWT students are required to presentthemselves at the Ministry of Magic, Department of Novice Education for their Power Gauging and Placement Exams no later than a week before September First. Failure to comply will result to student's denial for entry in NEWT level studies.

Harry refolded the parchment and felt himself sigh with relief. Other than Divination and History of Magic (he knew there was no chance in hell he could have passed those exams), he had managed to scrape more than passing grades in 7 OWLS not to mention the 3 Outstandings and the Exceeds Expectation he received for Potions. Maybe he would still make a decent potions student without Snape constantly breathing at the back of his neck.

_Hermione is gonna flip when she finds out I received O's for three of the core subjects required for Auror training._ The only problem he now had left was how to get Snape to accept him in NEWT Potions. The overgrown bat only accepts students with Outstanding marks. _Well, that's just it. Maybe I wasn't cut out to become Auror. Maybe it was only the novelty he wanted. It sounded so good at the time_, he reasoned. After hindsight, spending the rest of his life chasing after dark tossers, maybe, wasn't the best of ideas. You'd think one very evil Dark Lord wasn't enough for a lifetime. _No!_ The side of him that always never gave up on hope argued. _I shouldn't give up on my dreams that easily. Didn't McGonagall promise to do everything she could to help me become an Auror? Maybe I'll check it out with her once I get back to school. If it doesn't work, then nobody could blame me for not trying._

Grabbing a roll of parchment and a quill from the table, he quickly scribbled a note for one of his best friends. He was bursting with excitement due to his OWL results and couldn't resist to tell Hermione. _Why not surprise her? She always looked out for Ron and me ever since first year. Now might also be a good time to find out what that Power Gauging and Placement Exams were. I never knew there was such a thing._

His note finished, he summoned Hedwig and sent her flying to wherever Hermione was vacationing at the moment. He stared at Hedwig, who slowly turned into a dot in the sky, finally vanishing into the horizon.

Harry turned his attention back to the second letter. It had a look of formality to it, though unlike the ones from the ministry. The envelope was sealed with black wax that molded into a crest he had once seen before. It had a spider with crowns above and below it and two swords crossed on its back atop an English shield that was flanked by two winged serpents. Beneath the shield was a banner declaring _Toujours Pur_.

"Always pure," Harry muttered. It was the familial crest of the House of Black. He opened the envelope, taking care not to damage the seal, and unfolded the letter that was inside. Scrawled on the piece of parchment was a familiar set of handwriting- one which he was so sure he would never see again. _It couldn't bet_, he argued against the part of him that clung to the slightest hope towards the impossible.

Dear Harry,

If you're reading this then my time is up. I regret leaving you just when you would probably need me the most, but know that I have only been living on borrowed time. I guess it was high time it caught up with me.

If I know you half as much as I knew James then please heed this request as the last wish of a dying man (or should I already consider myself as a dead man?). Do not blame yourself. Whatever happened was my decision and I forbid you blaming yourself on my account.

You would be sixteen soon so I guess an early birthday present is in order. As your godfather and legal guardian, as per your parents' last request, I grant you your freedom. The future is still bright for you. You have been alone all you life and have more than what an ordinary wizard should. You have been marked for greatness and that is the only plausible reason why Voldemort is after you. I hope that my final gift serves you good for this the most I could do.

You are now a legal wizard, an adult by all counts excepting your age.

Legal matters concerning your emancipation have already been taken care and you will only need to sign the last set of papers, which I have entrusted to the goblins at Gringgotts, to make this arrangement final. Just ask for Ragnok.

So that's it. Enjoy this gift, live your life, and I hope to see you again, but not in the near future. Just know that I am with you always.

Sirius

P.S. It is good to place your trust in your friends. Your friends will follow you, even to death, just to be with you.

P.S.S It is also good if you heed Dumbledore's council. He may be a crackpot old fool, but he is a crackpot old fool who has your best interests at heart.

Harry was trying hard to keep back the tears that were threatening to escape from the corner of his eyes, at the same time trying to subdue to faint smile that would have graced his lips. He had clung to the slightest hope, impossible as it may sound, that Sirius was still alive and that the letter was his means of telling Harry. Sadly, it turned out otherwise. The letter only sealed his godfather's fate. Not only that, but Sirius ended his letter in a manner that would even humor a grieving person.

Finally conceding the inner battle, Harry allowed his first genuine smile in weeks to materialize. A single bead of tear, at the same time, softly rolled down the side of his cheek. Sirius was right. It was no use grieving for his loss. It would not bring back Sirius. The only thing he had left was to move forward.

A loud knock coming from his door interrupted him from his momentary stupor causing him to quickly wipe away the tears from his eyes. It was followed by Dudley's squeeling voice. "Hey freak, mum wants you to do an errand for her while she's out." This, Harry noted, was definitely a lie. Ever since he got home, he had struck a truce with his Aunt and Uncle. They won't bother him as long as he stayed in his room. He wasn't aware of any violation on his part.

"Why don't you do it yourself, Big D?" Harry retorted. "I've got more important things to do other than believing the fibs you make up. Not, that your silly little brain could understand the meaning of important."

A solid thud and a few loud footsteps later, Harry found his back flat on the wall while two pudgy arms held him hostage. "Now listen to me, you freak!" Dudley said in a cold voice that was uncharacteristic of him. "I don't know what you or your freak friends did to bewitch mum and dad to have them all so gentle on you now, but take my word for it, nothing's changed between the two of us. I still order you around this house and you follow what I say or else..."

"Or else what?" Harry cut him off. "Ever since I could remember, excluding that one time last summer, you couldn't land anything on me without your stupid bunch of baboons backing you up." Slowly inching his hand to his back pocket, he pulled out his wand and poked Dudley on the midriff. "Now, Big D, I'm willing to forget all this ever happened and let you stroll out of my room unharmed if you just get on and do whatever your mum told you to do."

Dudley just gave him a smug face and said, "You're not allowed to use your freakishness out of school. They'll kick you out and snap that little stick of yours."

"Guess what, Big D?" Harry matched Dudley with a smug face of his own. "I'm now allowed to do…" a brief pause, "MAGIC so get out of my way."

Dudley glared at him with seething nostrils, before releasing his hold on Harry. The look on his face clearly was a big FUCK YOU! to Harry.

Assuming he had won this round, Harry lowered his wand to pocket it. Big mistake. With one swift motion he could never associate with his fat lump of a cousin, Dudley yanked the wand out of his hand and snapped it like a twig. The next thing he knew, a massive fist was on its way hurtling towards his face. He instinctively raised one of his arms to try and fend off the attack at the same time clenching his eyes, resigning the rest to fate.

In what felt like eternity, Harry opened his eyes to find everything seemingly suspended in mid-motion. Dudley's fist was a mere few inches from his face. Harry tried to move out of the way only to find out that his body either refused to respond or it was glued real hard to the moment. A slight movement from the corner of his eyes suddenly caught his attention. Dudley's fist was starting to move again, albeit slow was also accelerating exponentially. Deciding it was the perfect time to panic, Harry urged his body to move his head away from the fist's trajectory.

With a guttural cry, Harry tried to use everything he had just to have himself out of the way. Thud! He toppled to the floor at the last second just as Dudley's fist connected with the wall. A satisfying crunch and a girlish squeal emanating from Dudley's throat told him his cousin had broken a bone on his hand.

From the floor, Harry glanced at his cousin, who was now crumpled on the floor rolling and squealing in pain while holding his injured hand protectively. It looked severely deformed and had already started to swell. He shuddered at the thought of what that punch could have done if it wasn't for another burst of accidental magic making him dodge.

Thanking his lucky stars for once again manipulating the tides of chance to favor him, his eyes fell on the two broken pieces of his wand. Maybe chance wasn't favoring him at all. Golden wisps coupled with a faint chorus of phoenix song were flowing from the core of the broken end of each wand piece. Once the song faded and the golden wisps dissipated, Harry looked back at his cousin's prone form and only saw red. He quickly stormed towards the beached whale with a sneer of pure loathing on his face. He managed two very hard kicks, which Dudley blocked with his uninjured hand before he fell beside his cousin, who had grabbed his foot during the last kick and pulled him down.

Thump! His head felt like it had cracked. Groaning in pain, he looked at Dudley and saw that he was now recovering and, although a bit shaky, had managed to get himself upright. He had to get up soon or he would be fare game. Through the pain, he managed to get himself back on his feet. His head was swimming and he nearly lost his balance.

"YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS, FREAK!" Dudley charged at Harry like a mad bull with his uninjured hand raised, ready to strike his puny little cousin down.

Wham! Harry caught the huge fist flush on his cheek and toppled on the floor for the third time this day. Dudley sure packed a hell of a punch even with his less favored hand. Groaning, Harry tried to sit up only to feel a very heavy weight straddle him.

"What have you got now freak?" Dudley backhanded Harry. "Not feeling so brave now without that little stick of yours, huh!" a punch straight to his nose.

Barely conscious, Harry felt his cousin drag him towards the wall and propped him up just so he wouldn't topple back to the floor.

"This," Dudley jabbed him at the side, "is what you get," another jab, "for messing with me!" and again, another jab.

After an agonizing minute that felt like forever, Dudley showed no sign of relenting. Harry was now coughing enough blood to fill a glass. His head was spinning and his lungs were burning, ready to collapse. It was a wonder how he managed to stay conscious for so long. After another minute, Dudley finally relented and moved back while keeping Harry pinned to the wall. Stooping down, he released Harry and caught him on his shoulders. Dudley then slowly made his way towards the window.

Crash! Harry welcomed the familiar feeling of flying through the air just before he could realize what was happening. He felt a sharp object stab his back just as he landed on the front garden and he released a muffled gasp. He had impaled himself on a long broken piece of glass.

He was now drowning in his own blood but he still managed a short laugh, spitting blood along the way. Fate always had a sense of irony. Just as he had accepted his fate he was sentenced to die. Nothing could ever hope to match that._ Mom, Dad, Sirius, I'm finally going home._

Darkness filled the corner of his eyes and he welcomed the blissful embrace of death.

Author's Note: Anybody like it? Anyway, if anybody does like it then please don't ask me when the next chapter may be up. Next chapter may be up a day from now, next week or next month. I'm writing whenever I wish to and I really don't like it when people nag me or give me deadlines. Other than that, I hope you enjoyed this. danF!


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